


"If There's A Place For Me..."

by ancientwastedlores



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, M/M, Marvel Universe, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:29:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25800634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancientwastedlores/pseuds/ancientwastedlores
Summary: Stephen Strange is seriously wounded in battle, and Loki is shattered. Angst, unrequited love, PAIN.
Relationships: Loki/Stephen Strange
Kudos: 33





	"If There's A Place For Me..."

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: Mentions of blood and wounds.

‘Loki… he-he was hit’ Thor managed to choke the words out.

The world narrowed to the ringing in his ears. Green electricity sparkled around his hands, and he almost wished that it could burn him, sting him. He was supposed to be by his side. To protect him. His life was meaningless anyway: he couldn’t have the one thing, the one love that haunted him the most. Every breath burnt his chest, shards of ice stabbing him. ‘Where is he?’ Loki demanded, voice brooking no argument, no opposition.

Thor was silent for a beat, weighing his possibilities. Loki’s hands twitched as he contemplated his best route of escape.

‘Midgard. London’ he finally revealed. ‘Please, brother…’

But Loki was already running, heart beating hard, fast, as if he were in the middle of a battle with blood thick in the air. Heimdall was already waiting when he reached. Loki noticed his eyes: serene- as if he already knew the outcome of the events to come; he probably did. Loki tasted bile rise up inside him as he took his position on the dials and nodded. He let the energy take him.

The Bifrost that usually helped one cross realms in a flash took much too long for Loki this time. He didn’t want to think; he didn’t want to reflect on Strange’s moments before the war as if they were final.

Forcing those thoughts back, he focused on the present: find him. Be with him.

He immediately found himself in the front of a sprawling campus of a hospital, the stench of disinfectant and sickness assaulting him. He walked into the bustle, a man possessed, his instinct guiding him forward. He knew where to go- how couldn’t he? It was as if a fishhook had pierced his heart and were pulling him ahead.

Washed out walls, washed out people. Hopelessness permeating the very bones of the place. He hated it- revulsion so strong and complete, he wanted to burn it down- wanted to hear screams, wanted to feel blood hot and sticky on his hands.

But it wouldn’t bring Strange back.

The hallway leading up to the ICU was hushed, the low threshold of ominous beeps grating in the silence. Loki stopped, hit by a wave of panic so strong it nearly drowned him. He could see the unmoving silhouettes of suited agents waiting: their large forms comically ill-fitted for the small, uncomfortable waiting chairs.

Steeling himself with a deep breath, he took a step forward- and another, and another, every step a chore. The agents looked up as he neared, their faces both nearly identical in their non-expression.

One of them handed him a data pad.

‘You will find a summary of the incident inside, sir. Until we are cleared to, however, we cannot allow you inside’

Static crackled in the air around Loki, but the agents looked on, offensively calm and unfazed. Of course, they have probably seen worse, he reminded himself. The War.

He turned his attention to the data pad- and read: _Midrange explosive... extensive abdominal trauma... major blood loss... hypovolemic shock... critical condition... extensive reconstructive surgery… use of energy stasis... biomatrix gel..._ words blurred together as he scanned the documents.

Strange used to be a doctor. He would tell Loki about his cases, late into the night in Strange’s apartment that overlooked the city of New York. He would tell him about the toughest cases he could crack without breaking a sweat, and Loki was in awe of Strange, who only had his wonderful, beautiful mind to rely on, and no Asgardian or Wakandan technology. Loki learnt these stories as if they were scriptures, and perhaps could recall every detail better than the doctor himself. He never thought he’d be reading or hearing those words in context to Stephen Strange.

An explosive had nearly blown him apart. Instant death were it not for his protective shields. He was alone. Thor had been the one to retrieve him from the battle. Humans were weak, he remembered. They were weak. Fragile. Blood and guts. A million ways for them to die- poison, knives, bullets. Unacceptably weak.

They had Strange in an energy field stasis in biomatrix gel, to facilitate and accelerate healing. Wakandan technology- but technology could only do so much when half his body was blown wide open.

Loki suddenly felt weak.

Dizzy.

Memories overlapped, reality shivered. He was back in that glass cell, after Mother’s death. Glass pierced his feet, blood and pain oozing. Throat scratchy from screaming.

It was his fault. He should have been next to Strange. He should have been the one to take the blow. He should have been the one to die. There was no point in living, not now. Not now. Not without Strange, without the meagre affection, the wrong, not-enough affection Strange did harbour for him. No… he couldn’t go there... he closed his eyes willing away the memories. Not now… not-

‘Did you see this!?’ Strange handed Loki an iPad.  
‘You mean the Vibranium Wakanda decided to share?’  
It’s amazing, imagine what we could do with that technology’ Strange mused.  
‘Not that you’d need it’ Loki said, reverence dripping from his words. But Strange was already lost.

Sure enough, hours later, the apartment was littered with sheets full of diagrams Strange had drawn. Loki only watched him. Studied how nothing else surrounded Strange in that moment but darkness, the ideas pouring out of him without stop, his mind running faster than his fingers could draw, the frustration of the delay clear in his furrowed brows and occasional tuts. He wouldn’t dare disturb the air around Strange.

Loki couldn’t help but feel a bit envious of the pages graced by Strange’s attention and genius. But he knew there was place for him too, in his heart. Somewhere.

The sound of the door opening brought Loki back to his body- he was sitting down, hands shaking, the data pad was a mess on the floor across the corridor. A nurse approached him.

‘He’s stable as can be- for now. If you would like to see him…’

Loki stood up, a brusque movement- the nurse flinched.

‘Five minutes’ she said, again her voice offensively emotionless. ‘No more’ Not even for gods, remained unsaid.

The smell of death got stronger, it coated his tongue, his throat- he couldn’t breathe. He followed the nurse, down more corridors and closed doors, past busy doctors and nurses who barely spared him a glance. The hook in his chest tugged sharply, pain shooting through him.

The walk to Strange’s room seemed to take years, and in that time, memories and invasive thoughts were free to trouble him. Every inch of him was free for unravelling, and Loki could do nothing about it. Tears stung his eyes. Faces that did look upon him seemed to know everything about him and Stephen Strange.

‘Do you tell anyone about us?’ Loki once made the mistake of enquiring.  
‘What’s there to tell?’ Strange asked.

Loki thought the question was pretty clear. He kept silent.

‘I told you’ Strange sighed, ‘I don’t think of us like that’.  
‘Even after… everything?’  
‘I didn’t ask for them, you simply you gave them to me’.

Loki was enraged, as he always was when he spoke to Strange, but as he always did when with Strange, he didn’t show it.

‘Don’t you think that’s ungrateful of you to say?’  
‘Loki, we are not in a relationship. Please…’  
‘It’s okay, I understand. Dinner?’

He didn’t though, and he still couldn’t understand as he walked to Strange’s room. He couldn’t understand why Strange could not afford him the love he gave him. How hard could it be!? He did it, and it was so easy. Strange was so easy to love. Wasn’t Loki? He did work hard. Taught him secrets of shapeshifting, taught him tricks. Strange was always so eager to learn, and Loki wanted to give him everything he knew. It was rarely reciprocated, but he didn’t care. The joy he got from learning was enough to make Loki believe. But at least before the war… at least then Strange could have said something?

Thinking about this felt insulting, as if there were bigger concerns than Loki’s insecurities at the moment, but he wasn’t in control any longer. He had gotten in the habit of answering his own questions and giving excuses for Strange, because Strange wouldn’t.

‘Through there’ the nurse said.

The sterile air and unbearable light in the next room blinded him before he focused on the figure in the middle of the room.

All the panic, all of the pain, all of it- left him. Bled out, until he was hollow. Until he was a husk, an echoing machine, just lumbering forward. The nurse stopped him with a hand on his shoulder- no closer. Strange was suspended in electric blue gel, pale and bloodless but for the large gash across his torso, as if a Giant had tried to slice him in two but failed. The ragged edges of the wound were raw, bright red.

‘All things considered; it’s healing well’ the nurse said.  
‘I’ll be the judge of that’ Loki muttered, but his words and his voice felt alien to him.

How could he tell her that it should’ve been him there? How could he explain the certainty, the bone deep conviction he felt of his own failure? If he couldn’t protect the one thing he loved the most in this universe, was it worth living?

They had removed the amulet he’d given Strange. It sat on a table, green and glowing, a prayer in ancient Norse scrawled on it.

‘For protection’ Loki had said, clasping it around Strange’s neck, and kissing his lips. Strange’s eyes were inscrutable as always, but his mouth had curled into a smile against him.  
‘Thank you’ he said.

Loki remembered aching for Strange to say something before they went off to fight Thanos. Anything at all.

‘We might be pulled into different places during the fight’ Loki said, fear dawning on him that Strange would be alone.  
‘You’ll be okay’ Strange said, making an effort to hold Loki’s hand.

Loki knew it was forced, but in the moments leading up to the battle, it was all he had. He wished time would stop, and Strange could very well arrange that- but he couldn’t ask. Loki squeezed tight, hoping Strange would do the same and leave his imprint on him. He didn’t. Loki sighed and let go.

‘It’s not me I’m worried about’ Loki said. Strange only laughed.

Right now, he was afraid his feet would take root in this room- he was afraid he could never leave.

The nurse’s hands gently guided him away- he had to tear his eyes from Strange. It couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be.

They walked back outside, to the corridor, where the two agents still waited, unmoved. Thor had joined them- and he looked up when Loki walked out.

‘Loki…’ he said, his voice wavering.

He ignored him. He walked down the corridor, and out, possessed by the need to get away, to get out. To run away. He needed to breathe. To think. To scream.

To hurt.

There was a hollow where his heart should beat.

He walked out of the building and into a portal of his making.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Do check out my other works :) I'm doing a much lighter series on the Avengers, a Y/N x Loki pairing.


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